Controlled
by bookworm52
Summary: Savanna, a resident of the Animal Crossing town of Toronto, finds herself the prime suspect of a murder mystery. Rated K-plus  just in case.
1. The Dream

**Chapter One**

The Dream

"Is it really all that confusing to you, Friday?"

I-I don't know what to say…

One day… you'll understand. One fateful day.

With that, I'll bid you farewell."

"No! Wait! Stop! I can understand…!

Give me time…"

"No, Friday. Goodbye."

Friday awoke that night sweating all over. As usual. Why did she always have to have the exact same dream? No one knew; especially not her.

What was the worst case scenario? Again, yet another unsolved mystery. Questions tumbled around the girl's head.

_Why…?_

_Why did you do this to me, Friday…?_

And then she screamed. One shrill, loud scream shook the small village. It should have awoken everyone; every animal, every human, the light and heavy sleepers. But, strangely enough, only one person appeared at her window.

Lincoln Francis Radcliffe. The name almost haunted her.

_Th-That boy…!_

The exotic furniture seemed to stare into her. They were mere pieces of furniture, but they were also her friends… and her enemies. Wasn't that how it always worked? Friends would turn their backs; enemies would offer a smile. But how did one know if it's simply a trick? Who could she trust?

"Link!"

The boy had red hair; not that it mattered, as he was simply a shadow. A shadow… with glowing, blue eyes. His piercing blue eyes had made many a person faint; it was just his nature. His eyes glowed. Always. With happiness, sorrow, anger, hate, love, shock, betrayal…

And he was just that friend who would soon melt into the enemy.

He placed every step with care, and, once he came close enough to Friday, a soft voice pierced the silence.

"Friday…

There's nothing to worry about. The dream's a dream.

And nothing but.

I don't want you to forget that. No more screaming."

Silence enveloped the room once more. With Link, silences were always awkward. Actually…

Silences with Link were never awkward; they were tense. It was enough to put anyone on the edge of their seat. Silences with Link were absolute. Silences with Link left a question hanging in the air, a very simple question: Why? Why did he do this, that, and the other? Why was he a friend of this person? Why was he an enemy of this person? But then again:

Didn't we all have our suspicions, about everybody? Why was Link the center of attention? Why didn't he ever seem aware of this attention? And, in this way, questions would surround him.

And… In the end, they would drown him, like every question was a drop of poisoned water. It would submerge him until he took a breath… allowing the fatal fluid into his lungs… and he would be captured.

_What if he's an imposter, Friday?_

_Friday…!_

Friday reached her hand out to him anyways, seeking comfort from the scare she had had…

Voices in her head…

Who would have thought?

Could they really have spurted from a second of her life?

Then again, in the space of a single second, the world could be turned upside-down. One single second could burn a wound so deep it could never be healed. One single second could set the world on fire. One single second could destroy everything.

But there is a but. One single second could also heal. A single second could cause every wound to vanish. A single second could kill a fire. A single second could change a life. But these seconds are much rarer.

Every person was drawn to the dark. It took an immense amount of strength to tear oneself away from the darkness and turn to the light. That was why those precious seconds were an endangered species.

Luckily, it only took one person to throw out a single moment of good fortune. A single second came from a single person. But who was that person? How did one tell if a person was that good person or just another distraction? For every answer, there was a question, and for every question, there was an answer. But no one would ever know all the answers. From that one moment of good fortune, there could spurt many more of them. But bad moments could choke it.

_Please, Friday, listen to me._

_Don't talk to him again…_

_He's a bad seed._

The girl chatted happily with the boy, and all seemed well.

Was there even a point to these observations? There could have been. Who really knew? All that really counted was the interpretation. If one was interpreted as a weed, or a flower, they would be treated as how they were seen. Interpretation meant everything in the world that was riddled with questions. We were always searching for the answers.

Some people brought up more questions than others, such as Link. Link spurred many questions starting with the word why. But one question, not starting with why, followed the boy out of the window and over the moonlit hills. That question was: Who is this Link really?


	2. The Player

**Chapter Two**

The Player

"_It was all so familiar..._

...

Are you sure it was just a dream?"

"Of course it was just a dream..."

"You're doubting it too, huh. Where do dreams come from anyways?"

"_They're all tricks, my dear. Tricks of the mind. Now, why don't we focus on the task at hand, hm?"_

"_..._

_..._

_You're changing the subject again!"_

_The worker giggled and abruptly stopped, listening to the laughter echo spookily around, slowly becoming so distorted that it sounded like an evil villain from the movies laughing insanely._

"_Aha ha ha ha ha...!"_

_Shivering, the worker continued to do her given job, wondering why she was put to work in such a creepy cavern. Then her companion spoke._

"_Yes, well, of course. After all—"_

"_Okay, okay; enough on dreams. We have to focus on the job."_

"_Isn't that what I've been telling you all along?"_

_The person chuckled, not allowing the silence to prevail. He didn't want to scare the girl any more. After all, he was a gentleman. And it was the duty of any given gentleman to be sure that any and all ladies be put at ease. With that, he added:_

"_All right, all right. Back to work then, isn't it."_

_The response was then carried into the distance like a broken telephone._

"Why can't you just leave me…

ALONE!"

One hit did it. Tears flowed out from the boy's eyes. Sobbing, he rushed to tell his mother, who would obviously punish his sister, the offender of the nonviolence rule. Filled with anger, the girl stomped over to her room, not daring to slam the door. Her room was a mess. She hated it, but she was too lazy to clean it, of course. The dresser was piled with stuff, from waterbottles to papers to wires. Every inch of space on the floor was covered; the closet door couldn't close properly.

She took three seconds to find her blue Nintendo DS, however. Turning it on quickly, it seemed as if her life depended on that DS. She had recently become an Animal Crossing addict, and she would often choose the DS over her homework. Now that it was July, she didn't need to worry about homework anymore.

She thumped onto her bed, armed with her DS; the Animal Crossing Wild World theme playing softly. That theme always put her at ease. That soft tune signified the beginnings. It was the first piece of music heard in the entire game. The makers had a lot riding on that theme; it was the one that would set expectations for both Wild World and the incorporated music.

The first suspicious thing she saw was Savanna, her favourite character to play on. Of course, she did create Friday, Savannah, and Samantha, but she enjoyed Savanna. Her theory was that since Savanna was the first character she made, she favoured her the most. Savanna had short, black hair, cropped at about mid-neck level. Her eyes were designed to be big and black, almost like a black hole. For once, the girl's hair was tangled, wet with saliva, and generally messed up. She was also sleeping on her stomach. She used the Control Pad to select Savanna, and the pixellated character just groaned and rolled off the bed.

Then, to the player's immense surprise, her character yawned, stretched, and raced down the stairs, screaming Friday's name. Her screams were an attempt to wake her up, and, as the deafening scream rang in Friday's ears, it was successful. She ran over to the pink-haired girl and shook her. The player stared at the bed in surprise. Friday was in it? But why? There was an empty bed in the attic! She knew it! It was the colour green! The green basic bed!

Then, a speech bubble appeared on the screen.

"Eeeek! Savanna!"

On the top of the blurb, there stood a single name: Friday. She was a character that Jessica had just recently created; it was obvious, since the character still had the custom pink, stick-out hair. The player couldn't wait to get to Shampoodle and change it to something more normal.

Now it was Savanna's turn to talk as she turned around.

"What are you blathering abou—"

The teen looked at the characters blankly. Why was this happening? Then, Savanna, now as petrified as Friday, let out a shrill scream. Grabbing an ashy poker from the fireplace, she armed herself, pointing the sharp end at the alien, and asked her:

"What's your name?"

The player quickly tapped the purple speech bubble icon and typed in, "Jessica".

Upon pressing, "Send", Savanna opened her mouth and replied, in a squeaky voice, "Jessica". A tiny speech bubble floated above her head, but she didn't seem to notice. The bubble was purple in colour, and Jessica knew it well from Wi-Fi. The player frowned; perhaps the characters couldn't see their own speech bubbles?

The black-haired girl seemed to be in shock. How did this alien use Savanna's mouth to talk? She quickly regained her composure, however, and spoke again.

"Alright, alien girl, how and why have you come here?"

She stared at the alien, trying to look threatening. The teen had black, curly hair and wore white glasses. Her expression was serious as she took her gray stylus and pointed it straight at the girl armed with the tiny fireplace poker. She dramatically lowered it, ergo poking Savanna in the stomach. Savanna giggled, dropping the poker and irritating the player beyond belief. Why couldn't she just play and be done with it?

The forgotten Friday, sensing, in her mind, Jessica's "murderous intent", rushed to the window and tried to pry it open. Her hands searched along the base for any type of knob or lever to force the window open with. The smooth wood failed her, as she couldn't find anything. Banging against the window, she tried to push the glass frame open with her fists. Suddenly, the window fizzled, sending off blue sparks. Smoke began to pour from it; Friday screamed. They were going to die!

Savanna, too helpless with laughter to see, now rolled on the ground, tears spilling out of her eyes. Then:

"_SAVANNA!"_

Friday let out an ear-piercing screech. All that she could think of was the malfunctioning window. Until a single word penetrated her thoughts.

_Betrayal..._

"We have to get OUT of here! _Now_!"

Savanna couldn't move. She was fixated to the ground, as if she were a piece of metal and the floor contained a giant magnet, sucking her down, down...

Suddenly, Friday remembered. The stairs. She galloped to the stairs, and... They fell off. She watched in horror as the wooden stairs fell into black darkness, disintegrating pixel by pixel. They fell, and the girl screamed again.

Friday, gathering all of her courage, raced towards the stylus, trying to shove it off. The stylus felt like it was made of one thousand tonnes of metal. It was a humongous death trap waiting to happen, and she had to get that inhumane object off of her figurative sister before it was too late. But it didn't matter whether or not Savanna was her blood sister; she was worth just as much to Friday, and all that mattered was keeping her on one side of the silver thread between life and death.

_She betrayed you, Friday__..._

An inhuman scream forced its way from Friday's mouth, sounding almost like a banshee. The scream wailed like only the ones that featured in horror movies could sound. Those kinds of screams gave even the toughest adults nightmares. It would certainly haunt Friday that night. She seemed to find strength from the shock of the scream, and pushed the stylus off of her roommate, who was too weak to talk. Both of their faces were white, and they gasped for breath.

Savanna couldn't help thinking, "How?" How could Friday have screamed like that? What happened to her? It was almost like she were being controlled... Someone else had to be screaming instead of her. Perhaps Agent S stepped on her tail again... Or was it really Friday who could let out that evil scream? It was going to haunt her for the rest of her life. Savanna declared herself officially scarred. Meanwhile, the voices continued to shake Friday.

_We're not finished yet__..._

_Friday!_

A hiss of a snake was heard, and then the voice faded, leaving the silence hanging in the air. Friday, trembling, fell to the floor, with a loud thump. Savanna's first thought was, "She's dead." Terrified and fearing the worst, she used her remaining strength to stutter:

"F-Friday...

Are you okay?"

Friday didn't respond; she was out cold with the fear that enveloped her heart. What did she mean by, "We're not finished yet,"? What more could have been in store for her? That evil spirit had already made her way into her mind and dreams; what more could she gain? Savanna screamed Friday's name frantically, shaking her and attempting to slap her awake. Tears were coming to her eyes; "It's all my fault" the only thought in her head. Yes, the girl was tough, but even the toughest people could care for others. People often made that mistake with Savanna. They thought she was cold as ice because she was tough. She couldn't bear to mistreat others. Not even a tiny, friendly punch in the arm was allowed in her books.

Jessica, not seeing or hearing anything but Friday pushing the stylus off her friend and the small fainting scene, decided to abandon the pen and resort to a much more effective way of silencing them. She pressed her lips together angrily and placed her finger lightly on the POWER button of her DS. She could feel the grooves of the button underneath her chubby index finger. Savanna, horrified, screamed:

"No, no, no! Don't do—"

Then the player pressed the button with all her might, flinging the DS down on the floor. Savanna felt dizzy; the room split in two, and then, the floor gave way and all went black.


	3. The Workers

**Chapter Three**

The Workers

"_..._

_You know, sometimes I can hear her voice._

_I-I think she's haunting me..."_

"_Nonsense, my dear. Why would she ever want to harm you?"_

"_Sh-She's not harming me, she's haunting me!"_

"_Yes, but would she willingly scare you?"_

"_..."_

"_All right, this must have to do with the dream you've had. Isn't it?"_

"_Y-Yes. I'm so sorry..."_

"_..."_

_A sigh escaped from his mouth. It wasn't intended; in fact, he had no intention of showing the little girl his frustration over the dream she'd been constantly talking about. Dreams were insignificant... He knew they were. Scientifically, dreams were merely imaginations acting up and recollections of past memories floating to the surface. Why did this girl pay so much attention to them? Finally, he responded:_

"_Why don't you focus on working for now, dear?"_

Resetti snored away happily in the Reset Surveillance Centre, until…

_BEEP!_

He was instantly awoken. He glared at the red beeping light. Why did that thing have to be so bright? And so loud? His brother, Don, had rigged that annoying thing up himself. Speaking of Don…

His eyes searched the room. He let out a loud groan, much louder than he intended. Don must have ditched him to get some coffee or something. Just like him.

"Reset-happy cheaters…" he mumbled, pushing himself out of his armchair. "Now, where is that punk?" Locating it quickly, he murmured, "Must be Savanna again." With that, he dove into the well-worn hole and scurried down it, his hands making the usual digging motion, although the hole was so worn that he didn't need to dig at all.

He popped out of the hole, too angry to care about the damage that could have been caused to his hard hat. "SAVANNA!" he thundered, to no avail. No one was outside the house.

"Aww…" he groaned to himself. "I always forget this step." He clambered out of the hole and trudged inside the house. He was so glad it wasn't like some people's houses; those people who invested so much money on that frilly pink furniture… What was that set called anyway? The lovely furniture set? It was a good thing that the members of the house were so boyish… Well, all except that girl with the blonde hair… And that other one with the crazy pink hair that he'd never met before. _Ah well_, he reflected, _better get back to work._

"Hello?" he called. "Hello? Anyone home?" He hurriedly climbed up the stairs, itching to get the job over with so he could read the new edition of _Mole Monthly_. Both the stairs and the room looked normal, like they had fixed themselves. There he saw Savanna and another pink-haired girl that looked vaguely familiar; perhaps they had met at the Roost? He knew they had met before when she was awake… She had those big, shiny, black eyes that Savanna and Savannah had.

The mole shook the thought away, grabbing the pink-haired one by the collar of her shirt. He stopped to think of why there were two girls unconscious, but only for a second, because he hated having to stop and think every few minutes. He stared at the all-too-familiar attic; at the two other sleeping girls, Savannah and Samantha, who had both reset at least once; and dumped her onto her bed.

The attic. How could they stand to sleep in such a place? The floors were decent; they were made with planks of wood, much better than where he slept, but the walls were the ugliest things he had ever seen. The punks had somehow found a way to paint one wall... based on themselves, thus resulting in the tackiest walls in the world. As well, they had found some method of making it look like every paint can had exploded and all the paint had splattered all over the walls. That had to be the most horribly-designed attic he had ever seen in his life. And he'd been to quite a lot of attics.

He glanced at one of the only human families in Toronto. Samantha had a classic cheerleader appearance; her long blonde hair tied into a ponytail, catty eyes, and her curly eyelashes that always looked stuck on to him. Perhaps she was a cheerleader in her past life... Perhaps. Or maybe she was just trying to confuse him, the little rat.

Savannah, on the other hand, was a completely different person altogether. She loved showing attitude and looking cool. She could pass as Savanna's identical twin, what with her deep black eyes and short, black hair, same height, same idiotic grin pasted on her face… The only similarity between the two roommates was that they were both sneaky little rats.

Normally, he would then go outside and lie in wait outside his tunnel, waiting for the violator to wake up. But, as he dragged Savanna up the stairs, he wondered who he was lying in wait for. Was it the pink-haired girl, or Savanna? He decided to lie in wait for either of them. Whichever woke up quicker would be the one to get grilled. After all, _Mole Monthly_ was waiting.

Suddenly, a voice interrupted his thoughts. "Don't hurt me… Aah! No! No!"

Resetti rolled his eyes. A bad dream. It was always so typical with these punks. Why was he the one who had to deal with all these trouble-setters? Or was it trouble-makers? Why couldn't Don do it for once? He could remember one time that Don had gone and talked to the punk about the rules. But that was it. One time. That couldn't be enough. On top of that, the memory was a bit hazy, so who knew how long ago that could have been? Usually he had a very sharp mind for remembering. He glared at the girl, now tossing and turning under his grasp. She was screaming for him to let go of her, and, at that moment, the mole would have gladly obeyed. Enraged at her constant jerking, he flung her onto her bed.

She stirred. "Mm…"

Resetti's eyes grew wide as she yawned and stretched. Suddenly, she screamed at the brown, furry face staring back at her. Of course she knew that it was Resetti. He had visited her too many times for her to forget his face. But it was a bit unnerving to wake up from a nightmare and see his nose almost poking her in the eye.

"No, no, no, ssh! You'll wake the others!" he snarled.

The girl nodded and rubbed her eyes. "You're here because the alien reset, right?" she whispered, a sneaky, infuriating grin covering her face.

"Yeah. Come. Outside. Now." His decision was to talk with her outside, no yelling involved. If he did yell at her, his health might have been in grave danger. His doctor had warned him about yelling unnecessarily. And he wouldn't make it seem like there was something wrong. Something seemed extremely fishy about this affair, and the last thing he wanted was some heap of flesh dragging him down when he had a mystery to solve. Nothing much happened in Toronto anyways, so even the tiniest mystery was something to do.

The girl nodded. She tiptoed down the stairs, avoiding the step that creaked. She walked out, squinting at the bright sunlight.

Resetti breathed in slowly, but before he could talk to the girl, she grinned at him. The grin seemed to be mocking him. She used it every single time she met him.

Savanna smirked. "So, gramps, are you going to yell at me or not?"

Resetti took a deep breath. "'Kay, Savanna, this time around, there were two people conked out on the floor instead of just one. Now I need you t' tell me why. Why was that time so special?"

"Well, I saw a head. A creepy floating head that was staring at me. She had white glasses and looked around, like, a teenager, and she had a pen-like thing. At first, we were talking, and she could understand us, but she couldn't communicate with us unless she made me talk like I had just inhaled a ton of helium. And then, she decided to use her pen to crush me. Friday was screaming like crazy; I think she was trying to escape out of the window. She was really freaked out. And then, she reset."

Resetti stiffened as soon as he heard about the head. The head was unnatural. It wasn't normal. And anything that wasn't deemed normalcy had to be reported. He had to take her somewhere… _Perhaps I should take her... there_, he told himself.

"C'mon," he interrupted, grabbing her hand. For a moment, he was surprised to feel skin against his paw, not fur, or scales, or feathers, but skin. Then, he shook himself and repeated, "C'mon already!"

The girl shook her head. "No! You creep! I'm not going to your mouse hole!"

Resetti frowned. "For your information, I'm a mole, not a rat. Now hold on." He plunged down into the hole, dragging Savanna with him. He could hear her screams just behind him, but he pretended not to care.

"Resetti!" she screeched angrily, dirt flying into her eyes.

"Close your eyes and mouth and you'll be fine!" Resetti called back, pretending that he misinterpreted her anger. "Just hang on." He poked his head up through a hole and frowned. There, prim and proper in his seat, was his brother, nonchalantly sipping his coffee. He was sitting "like a lady", as Mr. Resetti always remarked with distaste.

"Oh, hey, Sonny," Don waved. "How'd you take this case?"

"Very well," Sonny Resetti replied sourly. "No thanks to you, of course." He pulled himself out of the hole and attempted to help Savanna out, but she just smacked his hand away and climbed out herself.

She glanced at her surroundings, dusting off her mint gingham top. There was a metal cabinet to one side, half-open; two pairs of clothes hanging up. There was a flight of stairs leading down to a place that was supposedly the basement. A box of pizza lay on a gray table, along with a can of cola. A machine was backed up against a wall, which she had no interest in, although she knew that Savannah would be all over it. Her eyes travelled over to an easy chair, where a mole, skinnier and taller than Resetti, possibly older, was sitting. He had a beard; was it even possible for a mole to have a beard? Perhaps some of his fur grew in a different colour? His coffee mug was old and chipped; he was obviously a lover of coffee.

His eyes widened.

"No. Sonny, no. You can't just bring someone in here! This…" he lectured, motioning to the Reset Surveillance Centre, "is private. Only the Resettis and 'them' are allowed in here." Before saying "them", he glanced suspiciously at the girl.

"Who's 'them'?" the child asked innocently.

The mole looked at her. "Why do you think I referred to them as 'them', young lady?"

Savanna examined her red sneakers. Samantha had always promised that, one day, they'd take the bus and go to the city so some skunk named Kicks would give her a shoe shine, and, as Samantha guaranteed, they'd look like a whole different pair of shoes. Savanna had always thought that Samantha had been messed in the head, as she was sick and delirious at the time. Who had ever heard of a bus ever coming to Toronto? A taxi, she knew, but a bus? And a city? There was nothing but country for miles around Toronto! "Because you didn't want me to know," she mumbled. She quickly added, "Sir."

The mole grinned. "Wow, Sonny, she's polite." He began to raise his eyebrows repeatedly.

The girl began to giggle a bit. Sonny was quite a peculiar name to her. Plus, it reminded her of the weather forecast channel.

_The weather for today is sunny, with a chance—_

_HERE I AM!_

_S-Sonny? What the—?_

_I am the weather today! And I've got a chance! A chance at life! Woo hoo!_

"Yeah," Resetti muttered, ignoring Don's gesture and Savanna's suppressed laughter. "Unlike all the other punks that sneak in here. They just don't talk. Instead they grin those dopey grins till I give 'em a shovel or something."

He shrugged. "I don't know," he replied. "They all seem like pretty nice kids to me-"

Resetti glared at his older brother. Something seemed to snap inside him. "Yeah, 'cause you never have to _deal_ with 'em, Don! You're always skipping out on coffee breaks, an' when you _do_ go an' lecture one of them punks, you're so soft that they wanna go an' do it again!"

The mole looked hurt. "Aw, Sonny…" he mumbled. "Look, I'll do it next time. Next time, I promise."

Resetti sighed, beginning to calm down. "You always say that." Suddenly, he seemed to remember the strangely silent girl to his right. "Okay, Don, lemme get down to business. This girl here, Savanna, right? She says she saw a face this mornin'. An' it reset. Yeah, she saw the punk reset."

Don sighed. "I see… So we have to consult them?"

Resetti nodded.

Savanna screamed. "Consult _who_? Yeesh, Resetti! Just tell me already!"

Don smiled. "Them. But don't worry; you'll be fine. Unless, of course, you violate the rules…" Noticing her worried expression, he added quickly, "But that won't happen. I promi- Actually, I don't, but you get the point."

Resetti rolled his eyes. "Oh, how comforting, Don," he groaned, and spoke to the terrified girl. "Look, don't worry, 'kay? What happens happens."

The girl nodded, and crept a bit farther away from the Resettis. She sure wasn't going to get close to the freaky moles! Who in their right minds would ever dedicate their lives to lecturing people about the wrongs of resetting? Who really cared?

The mole quickly, yet harshly, ordered, "Hurry up an' drink your coffee, Don. We gotta go meet 'em."

The older mole instantly looked serious, and gulped down the contents of his mug. He leapt out of the chair and pushed a few pylons out of the way. Suddenly, a great flood of daylight filled the room; the two moles groaned and shielded their eyes.

Resetti grumbled, "It's so unnatural to walk instead of tunneling to the destination."

Don snapped, "Sonny, you _know_ we have to walk there. And it's just as hard for me too!"

Sonny griped, "But you go and skip out for coffee all the time, so it's easier for you!" He shot a glare at his older brother, furious at his brother's inability to understand.

The mole sighed. "Sonny…" He paused and turned to Friday, attempting to give his younger brother some time to relax. "Where do you live? Country or city?" He led her outside the once-dim room.

The 11-year-old let out a cry of surprise. What lay before her just had to be the city Samantha was talking about! There was… that skunk! His name was Kicks; she knew, Kicks, the shoeshiner, and the city lay almost right above where she was, and she could see—

The girl paused and soaked in her surroundings. A bluish-green door stood just above her. It had a curious insignia on it; it looked a bit like an eye or something. Then, next to it, a bright, cheery barbershop stood; it was called Shampoodle. Next to that shop was the skunk, Kicks, sitting on a doorstep, near an old, boarded-up entrance… a place filled with mystery and intrigue. Friday turned her eyes away and looked over at the white entrance that looked very fancy to her, and then to the giant shop that towered right in the centre of the back of the city. In giant letters, the sign read "GracieGrace", and the girl felt a bit scared of the immense place.

Unfortunately for her, however, Don and Sonny were leading her there. Soon, she was right at the entrance. The young girl couldn't see the left side of the city; she had almost no idea what it looked like.

Suddenly, a great throbbing noise filled the air. Various animals covered their ears; a few screamed. The city lights flickered. All of a sudden, a small helicopter landed on the roof of GracieGrace. The city was in chaos. Then, a single voice broke the pain and confusion in the air.

"Yarrrrr!"

That voice… was so familiar… could it be…?

The older mole grimaced. "Sonny, did anyone happen to give him a cucumber float? You know how he goes crazy for the stuff."

"Landdd… HO!"

The hatch opened. Plopped down on the gray cushioned chair was none other than Kapp'n, a so-called mythical creature called a kappa. He had a turtle shell and a bird's beak… He was unlike anything Savanna had ever seen, and she knew him in a heartbeat.

"Kapp'n? Aren't you supposed to be driving the taxi?" she asked, slightly horrified. _Kapp'n is... or was... the taxi driver. He drove new residents to wherever they were moving to, and he drove them when they were moving out too. He must have been extremely busy with handling every single town in the area. How could he have had enough free time to fly a helicopter? Although… it IS kind of nice to see him again! I haven't seen him for… five years or so. Has it really been that long?_

The older mole turned to her. "He is. They just cloned him. And _someone_ gave him a cucumber float." He grinned. "Although I do like him when he acts so crazy."

Savanna grinned along with Don. She had to admit that she enjoyed it too. It was certainly a change from the pirate demeanour that he had always kept up. And to think, a simple cucumber float did all this! Savanna secretly kept that in mind, in case she needed a bit of fun to pass the time with... Of course, if she ever got home again and was able to pass time...

The kappa responded to this by laughing. "Yar har har! 'Tis the season to be jolly!"

"C'mon," Resetti prodded the child, who protested and climbed up into the helicopter. The rest of them boarded just in time to see the girl find a seat on a cushioned chair that seemed to swallow her whole.

"Now, you be a good kid," the bearded mole instructed her. "Just head where there's a big building." Before the girl could argue, they were off and the doors had closed.

"No! Let me off! Don't leave me with this MADMANNN!" she screamed, lunging towards the door. "No way am I going to ride with this guy at the wheeeel!"

"Blast offfff!" the creature screamed, and pressed his foot on the gas pedal, shooting the helicopter upwards, a feat that certainly defied the laws of physics. Savanna screamed as they burst through the atmosphere, and soon, they were nothing but a dot in the sky, off to the unknown.


	4. The Unknown

**Chapter Four**

The Unknown

_The street lights flickered; the sky was nothing but black ashes embracing the cool tranquility of the night. But that night was not cool or tranquil in the least. The air crackled with chaos, and it was almost fun. It was funny to see the villagers scurry off, fearing for their lives. It was funny to see how the toughest males and the frailest females quaked the same way. And it was funny to see that, finally, Toronto had no plan._

_2000 would be a year to remember. 2000 was the day the scientists were bested by one individual. And that one individual happened to be a former scientist. He was smart in every way. The young man could have had the entire town in the palm of his hand, if only that old tortoise would agree. A dark aura emanated somewhere in the air. "Townies" coughed and choked, and then, the hail fell. The hail was deathly; some were the size of Gracie's car, and some were like the tiny pebbles I kicked away along the side of the road._

_The smoke began to clear, but soon, another spurt came, and the ground shook. Pixels fell off the trees; they were soon only mere patches where the dark, decaying grass didn't grow. Screams were heard when the sky began to fall apart. The smoke fell along with the sky, and mere white stood behind it. It was as if the sky were just peeling paint over a pure white wall. That world was so pathetic. What a happy-go-lucky world like that could have done for the good of mankind I did not know._

_That man had to be the smartest person to ever grace my village. He was also the mastermind behind the lovely apocalypse that I was witnessing at that point. The terror was absolute. I saw him smirk at the impending doom that befell Toronto, and, soon, he had taken my hand and led me up to a tall grassy hill. He was waiting there with me, and we watched the villagers scatter like grains of salt spilled on a kitchen floor._

_It wasn't like it was really his fault. He had tried to warn everyone. They merely laughed at him when he said that they had to evacuate. They were foolish, and then they would pay the ultimate price for their foolishness._

_Death._

"_They crashed! That would be considered a Code Red, you know!"_

"_Oh, my, a Code Red. We haven't had one of those in quite a while, isn't it, dear?"_

"_Arrgh! I forgot what to do! Think, think...!_

_..._

_..._

_Oh! Call the boss!"_

"_Dear, the boss is away today..."_

"_Ack! Why doesn't anyone tell me these things?"_

"_Remember? He's in a meeting in London... with the Inspector...?"_

"_Arrgh! Fine! We'll call... his daughter, then!"_

_..._

_..._

_..._

**BEEP!**

_The girl let out a sigh of relief. The deed was done. The boss's daughter was called, and all would be well again. At least... most things would be well again. She wasn't used to intruders, even though she knew that Kapp'n's trustworthy hands were at the wheel. She wondered what happened to him to cause him to be so reckless. The helicopter practically made a nosedive towards the ground! Nevertheless, she voiced only part of her feelings._

"_That should do it. _

_..._

_It WILL work, won't it...?"_

_Another sigh filled the chamber of echoes. Why did she have to doubt and worry so much? It wasn't natural for such a small girl. He answered:_

"_It will, dear. Don't worry."_

Next thing she knew, they were both conked out on the ground. The teenager frowned. She knew she should have never given in to Kapp'n's request for a cucumber float. Cucumber floats were perfect in every way except for the cucumber part and the float part. The dastardly things made her gag. But she knew that the kappa simply lived for the chance to eat one, so she gave it to him. Was that so wrong?

She slowly pulled a spaceship gear out of her pocket and placed it into a slot on the busted helicopter with a sigh. _There goes 100,000 Bells_, she thought glumly. _Ah well; I have to put bribing Gulliver on my to-do list._

The young lady reached into her pocket and removed one of her rarest items: a shiny gold coin with an insignia of a top hat on it. It was from a different series of games... Although she had no idea if it was more or less popular than the one which she now stood in. She knew one day, she'd have to move elsewhere. It was her job.

With that, she turned to a boy about her age and murmured something to him. He nodded and began to drag Friday away. The lady knelt near to the machine and took a wrench out from her pocket. She mumbled to herself angrily as she fixed the machine.

She picked herself up. After a long moment, she sighed and flipped open her cellphone. "Hello? Yeah; it's me... I _said_ it's me! You know who I am! ...Yeah, I sent Bill over with them. ...Mmhmm, they should be there in a few minutes... Just pour cold water on them! I don't know what to do! ...Yeah, bye." She slammed her cellphone shut and whistled a shrill, sharp call.

Her car instantly zoomed up to her. She climbed in with a long, overdramatized sigh, and adjusted her sunglasses as the limousine sped off.

She sighed and sank back in the cushioned chair and remembered Gracie... The poor thing. _The girl had lived her life wishing that she could amount to what I had become... and she still hadn't reached there. Ah well, at least she had a car, even though a limousine is far better._ She sniggered. Gracie at least had a decent sense of style, unlike all the other wannabes out in the country. She had a sense of vision. And she didn't care who she hurt. Just like her.

Soon, the car screeched to a halt. Enraged, the girl flung open the door and marched up to the front. She screamed, "You're _fired_!" With that, she slammed the door shut and stalked up to the white marble building before her.

The door wasn't automatic, as she reflected with a sigh. The technology there was limited, and she threw a fit when she found out there was no Internet. Finally, they at least hooked her up with cellphone reception. The only real technology there was a shopping card; she hated the civilization in the country. _All trees and grass and bugs and no TVs, shopping malls, or computers. Ugh._

She flung open the door and marched inside, nose high in the air. Then, she let out a small gasp, because, of course, the sight wasn't worth an overdramatized one.

She had seen Melissa, a key contributor to running the company. All would have been well if she wasn't in her current position. She lay on the floor... motionless...

"Melissa..." she mumbled, stepping over the dead body. "You're _fired_." She kicked the body. "For lying down on the job."

The body only smiled up at her... How odd. There was no evidence at all that she had died, other than her lifeless eyes. And she was smiling, but after talking to Melissa maybe three or four times, she knew her well, or, at least, as well as she wanted to know her. There was no hint ever given to show self-inflicted death. _But of course_, she reflected with a snigger, _I am no detective._

Turning her eyes away from the brown-haired fifteen-year-old, she studied her surroundings with distaste. The floor was hardwood... just the dark brown shade of wood made her stomach churn. _That wood could have been used to help the economy, so I can get a more advanced iPod_. The leather couch was black and too hard for her tastes. It was backed up against a cream-coloured wall... Cream reminded her too much of milk, the dastardly stuff. Her mother used to stuff it down her throat when she was young. Now that she was dead, well... at least she didn't have to drink that poison anymore. Yech. Other than that, there was a wooden desk, and one of those cushioned chairs on wheels for Melissa to sit on.

Suddenly, an announcement flooded the room. "Melissa, would you come to the Great Hall, please, thank you." A loud thumping noise could be heard, obviously the P.A. phone being hung up.

After a bit of grumbling on the teen's part, she picked up the dead body and dragged it to the doors to where the conversation room was. All the characters would converse in that room. They called it "Wi-Fi" or something. At the doors, she clipped on her translator and flicked a switch. The translator was meant for her to speak in the "video-game" style. She sought out the vice-president of the company, a man. He spoke only in private spaces, so none of the other characters involved knew who he was. But he wasn't from Animal Crossing. That much was certain.

She headed for the VP's room; the one with the silver sheriff's star on it. Once knocking on the door, she dragged Melissa's body inside.

"Umm… Are you there?"

The man emerged with a flourish of his cape. A smile exposed itself on his face. His smile almost lit up the room, but, yet, it seemed to darken the room as well. He had such a mysterious aura about him, and the air in the room became thick with mystery and intrigue. It matched the books on the bookshelves backed against the east wall; they were all fictional mystery novels.

"Ah, hello, there, dear. And how are you this fine day?"

"O-Oh, just fine, Mr. VP, sir. You see, Melissa… she's…"

"Yes, yes, I can see that. Allow me to… dispose of her."

The man bowed, and, with a smirk, snapped his fingers, allowing Melissa's body to melt away into dust. He looked back at the teenager, who broadened her smile. He was like a father to her… although, of course, she already had a father. But her father was like the perfect mother. He would buy her things. Wasn't that all a mother did?

Suddenly, a girl appeared at the doorway, her shoes clacking against the floors.

"She's here."

She tightened the sash of her curious costume. It was basically light and looked like something an oddball spirit person would wear.

"Excited, VP? I sure am! D'you think that she'll get in BIG trouble? Ooh, I just can't WAIT for the verdict! When the judge bangs his gavel...

**WHAM!**

Ha ha! I just can't wait!"

Her face broke out into a big grin. She had obviously been looking forward to the meeting. Although, the teenager figured that she had forgotten that it was simply a meeting, not a court trial.

"Anyways...

...!

Oh, it's just YOU.

Anyways, Miss Perfect, we need to meet in the Meeting Room. Oh, and by the way, VP…"

"Yes?"

"Nice office."

The office in question had hardwood floors and walls painted in a cream colour, just like the (late) Melissa's office. The desk was made of wood and neat stacks of paper covered most of the desk space. All except that space reserved specially for a porcelain teacup. The aforementioned bookshelves had not moved from their places, which was a good thing.

"Come, dear, we must go to the meeting room."

The girl nodded and followed the people out of the room. The Meeting Room consisted only of a long, wooden table and plastic chairs lined across it. The boss's daughter had the privilege of sitting on the cushioned chair that could spin around and had wheels to amuse herself with. Of course, she could also watch the prisoner get trounced. And she also had the privilege of torturing them once the team were through. She loved her job.

An old man with a whitish-gray beard opened his mouth to speak, but two voices interrupted him.

Two tiny pixellated characters raced into the room, chasing a mushroom twice their sizes. Finally, the shorter, fatter one caught it and ate it.

"Oh! Just what I needed!"

He had a thick Italian accent. And only one character could belong to such an unmistakable voice.

"It'sa me-a, Mario!"

A tiny, nasal scream filled the room. All eyes turned to the taller character in the green outfit. He was being chased by a tiny, red, snakelike creature. And it caught him. Two instant voices filled the room, both Mario's and Luigi's.

"Oh, mamma mia!"

The boss's daughter was enraged. Who were these eccentric characters to ruin her fun? For crying out loud, she was in charge! She screamed:

"Out!"

Both Mario and Luigi looked hurt. They had never been denied of their pixellated wonderland before. Where was Princess Peach? What was this strange world? Were these large, towering creatures really oversized Goombas in disguise? They were just about to speak up when they saw the man with the beard. Tiny screams filled the air as they fought to get out.

"Mamma mia!"

"Not what I needed!"

"Me-a, Mario!"

"Let'sa go!"

Once they left, the bearded man let out a sigh of relief and opened his mouth once more.

"Hello, there, miss."

Savanna looked at him, bewildered. Soon, she had gotten tired of him and looked back at the onlookers, who whispered amongst themselves. Savanna ignored them and worriedly asked the bearded man:

"Where am I? What's happening? Where's Kapp'n?"

"Ssh, little girl. It'll be all right. Now, we're just holding a little meeting. All right?"

The girl nodded her head. _Maybe Mr. Resetti's brother was wrong about them hurting me. They don't really seem very scary. No one seems to be younger than me... But that's okay! Now I can probably wreak some kind of havoc! Adults seem to take things so much more seriously than kids!_

"All right, now, it seems that we have a team out collecting evidence of the late Melissa's murder. Is that correct?"

A man with spiky white hair took a sip of his coffee and answered:

"That is correct, Your Honour."

The man wore a striped vest with a white tie. There was a blue shirt under it. But the most interesting thing about him were his curious glasses. The glasses didn't even look like glasses. It looked like a big metal mask covering his eyes that had red glowing lines on it. It made him look mysterious. And creepy. And his coffee mug looked shiny and brand-new, but it looked like he drank a lot of coffee, so why did the mug look so... unlike Don's?

The judge nodded at the strange man.

"Now, it seems we have a bit of a disturbance in the game... Which game was it? Granny Crossing?"

"Ha...!

Your Honour, the game is Animal Crossing: Wild World. That is obviously where the character is from, judging by her design."

"The character—? I have a NAME, you know! It's Savanna!"

"Never mind that, my dear. All right then, let's begi—"

"Hold it!"

Everyone in the room instantly looked towards the entrance. There stood two people, a man and a woman. The woman had straight, brown hair, as did the man. The lady wore a purple stone as a necklace and a brown suit. The suit's bottoms cut off rather short, so they ended up looking like a short skirt. The man's suit, however, was purple. There was a big, white, poufy thing that looked kind of like a whole bunch of handkerchiefs sewn onto the guy's shirt. They stood shoulder-to-shoulder, and were pointing at the judge, the woman with her right hand, the man with his left. The woman carried a small bundle.

The judge was, no doubt, surprised at this sudden entrance, but after all his years of witnessing courtroom dramas, he was soon able to regain his composure... for the most part.

"Wh-What is the meaning of this?"

The man strode up to the judge, obviously about to sweet-talk the judge into believing exactly what he wanted him to believe. And the judge was someone easily swayed by one's opinions.

"Your Honour..." he began in an extremely polite tone. Then, the woman burst in, obviously unsettled and excited. She probably liked her job much more than the man.

"We have found decisive proof that Savanna is the murderer of the late Melissa!"

Suddenly, everyone erupted into chatter.

"Savanna? The murderer?"

"Isn't she just a little girl?"

"Looks like she's a real brute inside then, huh?"

The judge banged his gavel three times, or as Savanna would have described it, thrice. His face was extremely surprised, and no one could exactly blame him. Court had just been assembled and now it was going to be adjourned?

"O-Order! Order! Miss Fey...

I'll be giving you a ten-minute recess to prepare this evidence!"

To anyone who had been in the Phoenix Wright series, he had instantly reminded them of Detective Gumshoe, who was quite the excitable one. He was an eccentric character, and he was constantly getting into trouble because of his tendency to overlook small details in testimony, again, due to his excitable nature.

"Now! The court is adjourned!"

**WHAM!**


	5. The Unveiling

**Chapter Five**

The Unveiling

"_D-Did you see that? _

_How they just BURST in there before the trial even starts?_

_They've already got the judge thinking like them!_

_I can't believe that man!"_

"_Now, now, dear, calm down."_

"_No! I WON'T calm down! It's a disgrace, that's what it is! You older people just think you can do what you want, huh? Is that it?"_

"_..."_

_He sighed once more. Why couldn't she see things in the way that he did? He knew that they HAD to gather evidence... and forged evidence from a certain someone... Obviously, they were in the dark about forged evidence, but their team lied to them. It was betrayal. That lawyer had what was coming to him... For the second time. How gullible... It was pitiful, really. And finally, he would have gotten his revenge. He didn't voice any of this, but instead told her:_

"_It'll be all right, dear._

_She'll be innocent; don't worry. I'll do everything I can to make sure of it."_

**The**** Journal of Savanna: 7/13/10**

It was insane. The amount of humans there was almost impossible to describe. It was like... Have you ever encountered some trash sitting at the side of the beach from those nasty tourists and saw millions of flies swarming over it? And then, it's kind of hard to believe because you'd never had guessed that there were really that many flies in the world, right? That's what it was like to enter into that building with all the humans scurrying around.

Plus, the people there were practically all adults. I saw two kids there: Kumatora and another boy. Kumatora isn't worth mentioning, but the little boy was so nervous that it was adorable. He looked nine or ten, and he was clutching onto the arm of a top-hatted man. The guy with the hat was talking to that other person who looked like Ron DeLite with blonde hair.

That kid looked real nervous. Looking back on it now, I figure I should have gone up to him and talked for a little while. Maybe it was his first time in the building, too. Or maybe the guy with the hat was going to take him to get his hair done at Shampoodle's. I can tell you, that drying hood looks pretty imposing at first glance, but it's over before you know it.

Anyways, I met a guy named Luke Atmey. His parents must have been really cool to involve the "look at me" wordplay in his name. He was pretty nice, but he had a habit of hiding things that I intend on getting out of him. Turns out that he was... supposedly... an ex-con. His sentence was eternal servitude to some guy.

There was only one way to describe Mr. Atmey's master: a coffee-drinking maniac. Of course he looked suspicious; who wouldn't with those creepy goggles strapped on their face? But, as my mother and Friday had always told me: don't judge a book by its cover. I guess he could have been a nice guy, even though my gut feeling tells me that everyone in this whacked-up place has something to hide.

As soon as I get out of solitary, I'm going to get to the bottom of this and clear Mr. Atmey's name.

**Earlier that day...**

Once Savanna came to, she was in a jail cell. The cramped space contained only some bread and water sitting on the dingy, gray, stone tile and a bench attached to the wall; the wall looked much like the floor.

She stared at the curious loaf of bread. She had never seen food like that in her lifetime. Hesitantly, she took the bread in her hand and bit into it, wincing a bit at the grainy taste. She hadn't eaten anything but fruit for five years. This hardened, crusty stuff tasted much like the dirt that Savannah had dared her to eat a long time ago. Once she was done the bread, she gulped down the pitcher of water, enjoying every refreshing mouthful. She was extraordinarily thirsty; she figured it was the terrifying helicopter ride. How could Kapp'n be so crazy over a cucumber float that he'd defy the laws of physics like that?

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, which was actually quite grimy, she looked through the bars of the cell. She then saw someone staring at her. She screamed, wondering how long the creepy lady had been staring at her. That was when her watcher realized she was awake, and asked:

"Did you like Mama's bread?"

The question was asked by a woman with short, straight reddish-brown hair. She wore an orange apron over her white, long-sleeved shirt and blue jeans. Her sneakers were white, and she wore a pink bandana. Eyes shining, hands tightly clasped together, she awaited her answer.

"Y-Yes, it was lovely."

Her eyes still shining, she clapped her hands in delight. Then, her laughter was cut short as her eyes practically shot flames at the girl. _Did she have laser eyes or something?_, Savanna couldn't help wondering. It reminded her of an episode of Krazy Komet Rider. She would watch K.K. every Saturday with Friday, Savanna, and Samantha. After they watched Krazy Komet, they would always listen to the theme song on the tape deck. It was called Go K.K. Rider, and Samantha had brought it with her when she arrived, much to Savannah's delight. Anyways, the lady's eyes turned to fire and she spoke.

"Are you sure?"

Nodding, the girl fearfully answered:

"Y-Yes! Yes! I loved it!"

The woman paused for a moment, unsure, then smiled, her eyes twinkling again.

"Good. Mama worked long and hard on that bread."

The girl couldn't help but to wonder what had happened to her to make her refer to herself as Mama all the time. Perhaps she had too many children that demanded her attention. With that, she left. Savanna let out a sigh of relief. And then she spotted a head poking out from behind a wall. When they made eye contact, the person ducked his or her head behind the wall again. From what she saw, she believed it was a man. If that was true, he had long orange hair that was kind of wavy. If she was mistaken, and it was a woman, then she would have had short orange hair.

"Hey!"

A tiny yelp came from behind the wall. A small, childlike, frightened yelp. It was like a tiny puppy who had been abandoned by his mother and then encountered a harmless snake. Of course it couldn't tell whether a snake would hurt it or not, but it was the thought that counts.

"Put your hands where I can see 'em, punk!" she screamed in her best Resetti impression. She also kind of sounded like Copper when he thought no one was listening and slash or he had fallen into a pitfall seed.

Two small hands clad in white gloves slowly stuck themselves out from behind the wall. Perhaps she was mistaken. The hands didn't look like they belonged to a man. They were quivering, yet the girl showed no mercy. She never did.

"Do you want me to search you? Come out in the open, where I can see you! Now!"

The person hurried over to the jail cell. It _was_ a man. He looked kind of pathetic and wimpy; he was biting his lower lip. He wore a green coat; there was something that looked really fancy under it. Golden tassels lay on his shoulders, and he had white gloves on his delicate hands, as suspected. He was playing with his hands, like a little kid. Suddenly, he wailed:

"D-Don't hurt meeeeee!"

His hair lay in curls along the sides of his head, and when he yelled, those curls shot out like whips! Savanna couldn't help screaming a bit. She had never seen a deadly weapon that looked quite as harmless as these did.

"No! No! Don't worry! I'm not going to hurt you; I promise!"

The guy was trembling, his eyes squeezed shut protectively. Somehow, Savanna had the feeling that he had the mindset of a child; it seemed like he was pretending that others couldn't see him if he closed his eyes, shutting the treacherous world out. He whimpered, "A-Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure.

…

What's your name?"

"Mask*DeMasque. I-I mean, R-Ron DeLite."

Savanna smiled and nodded at him. All of a sudden, her smile shattered, and a grin replaced it. Yet another fantasy had struck her dumb. A ballerina. It was perfect. And if the suit was "hot pink", as Old Man Nook called it...

"Mr. DeLite, or, Mr. DeMasque, I had the most peculiar vision of you as a ballerina, spinning in a pirouette, with your hair all spiked out, like when you scream…

Oh! I'm sorry! What do you want to be called?"

"Ah, just Ron is fine." He looked even more nervous when she described his ballerina antics. Perhaps he was actually a ballerina in disguise? She giggled at the prospect, which made the guy wince and bite his lower lip a bit harder. Savanna thought she saw a scarlet stain, but she dismissed it as her imagination.

"Well, then, Ron—"

"DeLite! Get over here!"

Startled, DeMasque said goodbye to the twelve-year-old, and sped over to the voice at the speed of light. Savanna supposed that the mysterious voice was a voice of authority. Although, the guy was quivering in front of a twelve-year-old girl, so maybe the voice wasn't superior.

"_DeLite, is she awake?"_

"_Y-Yes."_

A loud smack was heard, apparently the man being slapped. A pathetic wail filled the air; it was now obvious who the victim of the slap was.

"_O-Ow…!"_

"_You fool! Call Maya then! She'll alert everyone!"_

Soon, the man reappeared, rubbing his cheek.

"S-Savanna…

F-Follow me!"

He used his best domineering voice to lead her out of the jail cell, but a small, friendly smile snuck itself onto his mouth as he unlocked the doors and swung them open for Savanna to step out of. He hastily and unwillingly strapped handcuffs on the girl's hands. Holding the handcuffs, he gently led her down a hallway.

Savanna wandered the hallways, admiring the cream-coloured walls. She always loved milk, and that colour reminded her of it. Friday had always been reminding her of milk and how it built strong bones and teeth. The girl was always taking pigeon milk with Brewster's coffee, otherwise it would be too bitter to drink. She wondered about inviting that creepy man with the mask to have a cup of coffee at the cafe. Maybe he'd spend so much time there that Brewster could afford that expansion he'd always wanted.

"...You."

Savanna turned. There stood a young man in a dress. But it wasn't just any dress. It was the frilliest, most womanly dress that she had ever seen in her life. The hat looked much like a doily, and so did the shoulder part. A red ribbon was tied around his neck, and he wore an orange button-up top. His apron was, again, made of frilly lace, and he wore dress shoes. The man had a spiky hairstyle.

"Wh-Who are you?"

"...

...

Zvarri!"

"Ack!"

"Hm hm hm. The truth has once again been elegantly revealed to me! You are Savanna, from Animal Crossing, correct?"

The girl nodded, smirking. The guy was a fraud. He could have just watched the meeting to find that out. She would have bet a thousand Bells that he went through that charade with everyone he met. The man grinned, extending a hand gracefully, as if he actually wanted to shake Savanna's tennis ball of a hand.

"Luke Atmey, Ace Detective, also known as Mask*DeMasque."

"Luke Atmey? That sounds kind of like... 'look at me'...

Nice name, mister. And it's nice to meet you—

Hey. Wait a second. If you're Mask*DeMasque, then who's that guy with the spiky curls?"

"...

You as well, dear."

Savanna, glaring at him, had a comeback ready, as usual. Comebacks were her specialty; Resetti could vouch for that. She decided to hit him hard and question his manliness, something that usually got her into fights with the men in Toronto. She grinned when she so much as remembered the pitiful comebacks they had thrown at her.

"Yeah, and, why are you in a dress?"

Atmey took off his magnifying-glass monocle and polished it. He recounted his tale, an almost proud tone in his voice. He seemed as if he loved this crime he had committed, and the sentence was worth it for the experience.

"Well, you see, little girl, I have been found guilty of murder. And, well, instead of punishing me with the death sentence, they decided to dress me in this horrid outfit and be servant to Mr. Godot."

"Mr. ... Gobo?"

"No, no, dear, Godot. It's a d, and the t is silent. Godot. G-o-d-o-t. Understand?"

"Oh, Godot. Who's he?"

"Hey, Atmey!"

The servant's head jerked up upon hearing his master's voice. He knew it would be yet another cup of coffee, but what blend? Would it be #107? Or perhaps #102? Or maybe even #316? Whichever it was, it would have the lethal ingredient that that suited that lethal man perfectly. He could have defended him, the coward... But he didn't. That defence attorney wanted him dead, and so did that prosecutor. Prosecutor Godot. He was quickly jerked from his thoughts by a low voice speaking.

"Get me a cup of Godot Blend #207!"

"R-Right away, sir!"

Now he spoke in hushed tones.

"_That was Mr. Godot. I must be taking my leave. Goodbye."_

With that, he left, leaving the girl to interact with a few other characters and have them explain the case. She scanned the area and found a peculiar man. He looked kind of like that man she had seen earlier, the man with the orange hair, Ron DeLite. It was just that his hair was blonde, and no curls were visible. He carried a sword and wore a purple cape. He was chatting with a man in a top hat. He sported a brown coat, with an orange sweater underneath. It looked very much like he befitted a fop. Alongside the hatted man was a hatted boy. He wore a blue paperboy cap and a blue sweater over his white top. He carried a brown messenger bag.

Suddenly, the girl spotted one man who was away from all discussion. He was looking down at his brown shoes in a corner. He had brown hair, and, luckily, neither his shirt nor his pants were brown. His shirt was bright blue, and his pants were red. He had a moustache and a tiny beard, and, unluckily, those were coloured brown. She walked up to him, because, being the nice girl that she was, she wanted to make him feel at ease.

"Hello there."

"…"

"…

Hello there."

"…"

"Can you hear me?"

"…"

"What's your name?"

"… Duster."

Savanna didn't respond for a minute; she was too overcome with surprise that the guy could actually talk. Soon, a girl ran up to him and jokingly punched him in the arm. She wore a blue dress, the same blue as Duster's shirt, and red boots, once again, the same red as the man's pants. She had reddish hair; it looked more of a pink colour. And then she glared at Savanna, asking:

"Who're you?"

With that, she punched Savanna in the nose. It was her. She was the one that she'd been looking for. Finally, victory was hanging in the air. Just above her. Victory and revenge. They were both as sweet as chocolate could ever wish to be. Victory, revenge, and her defeat.

"Ow! Hey!"

"So, who're you? And what're you doing with Duster?"

"Well, all I wanted to do was keep him company! He seemed kind of lonely. So I just decided to go up to him and talk. You know, put him to ease—"

"You talk too much."

"E-Excuse me?"

"Well, YOU'RE that girl who's accused of murdering Melissa, aren't you?"

"Well, I know for sure that I—"

"Why, hello there, dear. I didn't think I would see you again so soon."

The person who stood there now was none other than Luke Atmey, standing there in all his glory and splendour; his hands looking like red balloons, a bit like Savanna's except... redder. Savanna screeched:

"M-Mr. Atmey! What happened to your hands?"

The man looked down at his swollen hands disdainfully and tried to move his fingers, almost nothing but stubs. Sadly, he answered:

"I-I was handed down a very harsh verdict. I had to serve Mr. Godot for eternity in this horrid dress, and I had to make him coffee when the court plainly knows that I am allergic to coffee beans. I'd much have preferred the death sentence."

The girl looked at his hands and slowly produced a bag of medicine from her pocket; she'd gotten it from Old Man Nook. She had been saving it for Goldie, a dog who lived in Toronto. She was dreadfully sick, but… perhaps she could scrape up another 400 Bells for Goldie.

Presenting the medicine bag to him, she said:

"Here… Take this. It's some medicine."

Atmey looked at the medicine for a long, long time. His hands lay limp by his sides. Finally, he spoke. His voice was quiet and sad, a tone of voice that no one had ever heard from him in his lifetime.

"_Th-That's..."_

Savanna smiled weakly. How could he have transformed so quickly? It seemed as if he had changed from the haughty, proud, self-centered Luke Atmey to a weak, pathetic, tragic Ron DeLite sort of person. However, he recovered soon. He opened his mouth to speak, but the girl silenced him.

"Mr. Atmey? You were just acting kind of like a person I know. His name's Ron DeLite."

The man winced at the name. Obviously he knew what she was talking about. Savanna decided to continue, knowing that Atmey would respond in his own way to whatever she said.

"Ron calls himself Mask*DeMasque, and I couldn't help but notice that you called yourself Mask*DeMasque when we first met—"

"So what?"

The girl quickly turned, forgetting that Kumatora was still there. Duster looked uncomfortable; who could really blame him? The hatred crackled in the air. Impossible was the only word used to describe one missing it. Kumatora scowled and crossed her arms. Seemingly, she hated Savanna. Finally, she sneered:

"Oh, I get it. Two ex-cons are having a conversation, huh?"

Pouting, she grumbled:

"C'mon, Duster; let's go somewhere else."

Duster's only response was a small nod as the two hurried off, Kumatora chatting happily. So much for talking too much. She was a regular chatterbox! They trudged over to the other side of the room, and Savanna took this chance to bid Mr. Atmey farewell. Smiling kindly, the man replied:

"Be well, Savanna. Don't worry; I'll do everything I can to help you."

With that, he headed off towards the Great Hall. The Great Hall was designed much like Pictochat, where there were hallways leading to chatrooms, each labelled with a letter. Upon going down a hallway, there would be chatrooms labelled with a number on the door. Everything up there seemed to be in perfect order, and Savanna didn't like it.

The girl explored down one of the aforementioned hallways, specifically the D Hallway. She gazed upon all the numbers and, soon, she bumped into someone. Neither of them toppled over, but they had both doubled back and apologized simultaneously. The first thing she saw was the hand, and the next thing she saw was a brown coat billowing behind whoever it was that escaped. Then, a rustling noise was heard, a voice screamed, "Hold it, pal!" and a blow to the back of the character's head rendered her unconscious.


End file.
